Remember When It Rained?
by dmitri
Summary: A Valentine's Ball - love is in the air... along with paper hearts. Warnings: slash, HPDM, DTSF
1. Chapter 1

_Dislaimer: I don't own these characters or this universe._

_Warnings: slash. don't like, don't read. simple enough :D_

* * *

**--- Chapter One ---**

It was ten months since Voldemort had been defeated, or more accurately blown to smithereens by a particularly vicious killing curse.

It was nine months since the last of the Death Eaters had been found, captured and fed to the Dementors.

It was eight months since the Wizarding World had truly come to terms with being free from terror.

It was seven months since Harry had hit Ron soundly around the head and told him that if he didn't ask Hermione out, he could find someone else to moan to when she started dating a guy with more courage than a wet rag.

It was six months since Hermione had asked Ron out.

It was five months since The Truce.

It was four months since the student population of Hogwarts had become accustomed to seeing Draco and Harry talking amicably to each other and had stopped shielding themselves from hexes whenever the two met in a corridor.

It was three months since House rivalries had practically become a thing of the past.

It was two months since Harry had rather effectively outed himself to the school by dating Blaise Zabini.

It was two weeks since Blaise had broken it off.

But, most importantly, it was now only ten minutes until the Valentine's ball and Harry was currently standing in a black shirt and a pair of mismatched socks, staring balefully into his mirror. Just because he didn't have a date, didn't mean he couldn't make an effort to look good and if he managed to turn Blaise's head then so much the better. However, with his hair currently resembling a bird's nest in a bomb blast, and his dress robes nowhere to be seen, this plan was more than a little patchy.

"Ron?"

Harry attacked his hair again, eyeing his friend in the mirror.

"Ron?"

The other boy didn't seem to hear him - he was apparently wrestling with a pair of trousers, trying to do them up.

"RON!"

The boy yelped and spun around.

"Are those mine?" Harry asked Ron's reflection, motioning to the trousers with his elbow while still valiantly attempting to flatten his hair.

"Huh?" Ron stared blankly down at the trousers and the two inches of ankle that could be seen below the hems. "Oh, damn. Where the hell are mine then?" Flustered, he tried to step out of both legs at once, stumbled and flung himself at the curtains around his bed as he fell. There was a ripping sound and for one horrible moment, Harry feared for the state of his trousers. Then he saw Ron on the floor with half a curtain lying on top of him.

"Ah, bloody bed," cursed Ron, rubbing his elbow as he sat up, his ankles still encased in the trousers.

"Aw, did you get a boo-boo?" Harry narrowly avoided the cushion flung at him. It sailed past to slam into the door frame, just as the door itself opened. Ginny strode in sporting a knee-length, lime green dress that flared out at the waist.

"Jeez, what happened? All you had to do was get yourselves dressed." A smirk tugged at her mouth as Ron attempted to free his legs. "Anyway, Hermione says that if you're not down in five minutes, she's going to find Michael Corner instead."

This time the pillow hit the door as it closed behind Ginny's rapidly retreating form.

"You all done with these then?" muttered Harry, picking his trousers up off the floor as Ron rummaged in his trunk.

* * *

Six and a half minutes later, having once again given up on his hair Harry traipsed down to the Common Room, Ron hopping behind as he pulled on one of his socks.

"Finally," snapped Hermione in exasperation, "Come on." She shooed them out, ignoring Ron's complaints as he tried to negotiate the portrait hole wearing half a sock.

When they finally reached the entrance hall, feet properly attired and all, most people had already gone in.

"'Mione, you look... good," breathed Ron, finally seeing her properly now he'd finished with his feet.

She grinned, "You don't look too shabby either."

"No, I mean it, you really look special."

She did as well. Quite different from the Yule Ball - her hair was down this time, her wild curls tamed to weave gently down to her shoulders. The dress was strapless and floor-length, fish-tailing out at the bottom, midnight blue material shimmering in the light.

"I, uh, I got something for you," said Ron awkwardly, pulling out a small box that he had fortunately remembered to pick up. Harry knew what was in it - he'd had to bully Ginny into letting him know what colour Hermione's dress was for this.

Unsurprisingly enough, Hermione was delighted with the three-string, silver necklace within. It had three blue beads spaced along each string. Harry winced as Ron fumbled the catch, finally managing to get it done up round Hermione's neck, but she didn't mind. She just kissed him fondly and took his arm as they walked through the doors. It had, Harry reflected, been worth allowing Ron to practise the whole scenario on him earlier. Well, not the _whole _scenario.

Glancing around, he saw that he was now one of the last few in the hall and went in, willing himself not to scan each of the tables for _him._

It was no use. Harry was barely inside the Great Hall before he saw Blaise, looking divine in pale dress robes. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he ground to a halt. Blaise was laughing at something Terry Boot had just said and Harry could very happily have punched the Ravenclaw boy at that moment. Luckily, Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him over to their table where Seamus, Dean, Neville and now Ron and Hermione were already seated. It was only then Harry noticed that the four long tables had been replaced with thirty or so small, round tables, each covered with a black table cloth and a large vase full of various red flowers. Candles hovered low overhead and hundreds of tiny, white paper hearts fluttered down from the ceiling. Harry picked one out of the air as he sat down next to Hermione.

"Fun aren't they? It's the same lot falling all the time - you see," she said as he dropped the heart onto the floor, only to see it vanish, "they disappear when they hit the ground and reappear at the top again. It's all in Hogwarts..."

"A History," finished Ron and Harry simultaneously.

Hermione gracefully ignored them and continued, "You can do it with practically anything, you know. _'Aqua Orbis'_ for rain, _'Folium Orbis' _for leaves, _'Pluma Orbis'_ for feathers-"

Ron choked on his drink. "Feathers?" he asked, incredulous, "Who wants feathers falling continuously on them?"

Hermione huffed in a way Harry could have sworn she'd learned from Madame Pince, "I believe it was a custom a few centuries ago, when the people at a party would-"

Ron cut across her gently, "You know what, Hermione, never mind. You can have feathers if you want." Instead of being angry at the interruption, Hermione smiled at him. Harry saw Ron put his hand over hers and whisper something in her ear.

Fortunately, at that moment Dumbledore stood up at the teachers' table and tapped the side of his glass. The conversation in the Great Hall, as ever, ceased instantly.

"Welcome, one and all to this Valentine's Ball. Tonight is a time to dance, drink and be merry, but above all, eat, so I bid you tuck in," said Dumbledore. It seemed to be the same system as at the Yule Ball, judging by the way that he sat down and said clearly to his plate, "Toad in the hole, please."

Well that or he was talking to crockery again.

"So what's this about you and Michael Corner, Hermione?" asked Dean as he started in on a rib-eye steak.

Ginny jumped in before Hermione could answer, "He's got a huge crush on her. He asked her to the ball."

"He has _not_ got a crush on me," snapped Hermione. She'd had to endure constant teasing from Ginny this past week, despite the fact that she'd protested frequently that it was not a laughing matter, and he was very sweet to ask her.

"Sorry, 'Mione, but he trails about after you like a lovesick puppy," said Harry, straight-faced, "I'm surprised Ron hasn't beaten him up yet."

"Me too," muttered Ron darkly. He speared a potato on his fork and glared at it so hard you would have thought _it _had been the one to chat up his girlfriend.

"Come on, he's not that bad," said Hermione, "and it's not like I said yes," she added sharply, looking at Ron.

Sensing an argument brewing, Harry shot Ginny a silencing look and turned quickly to Neville, "Is Luna still ill, Nev?"

"Yeah, she's in the infirmary."

"Aw, that's too bad. It's a shame for her to miss this," said Harry, secretly relieved that he never got to see the dress Luna had prepared for the ball. Apparently she'd made it from an old patchwork quilt for her cousin's wedding.

"I don't think she minds too much. She doesn't really go for dancing. She only said she'd come to keep me company."

"Hang on," cut in Seamus, "I thought Lisa Turpin asked you to go with her."

"Oh, she did," said Neville mildly, "I just... didn't feel like an actual date."

"Oh." Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for Neville. He was a nice, friendly guy who had zero luck with girls. They either left him well alone, or paid him attention only when he had a crush on someone else. He had a sneaking suspicion that Neville had really wanted to come with Parvati Patil.

"Me either, Neville," said Ginny, raising her glass triumphantly, "Far too many single guys to pick from. This way I can dance with whoever I choose."

Neville nodded, an odd look on his face. Poor guy. Maybe Harry could try to hook him up with Parvati later.

"You planning to dance with _every_ boy then?" asked Ron.

"Don't be silly. Only as many as I can lay my hands on," Ginny smiled sweetly at her brother.

Noticing the odd colouring of Ron's face, Harry turned and said, "Hey, don't tease him." However, Ginny's mischievous look was infectious and he added, "You'll make him paranoid. He'll start glaring at every guy in the room."

"He can glare at whoever he wants," she stated confidently, "but I didn't buy this dress for sitting around in."

Silence descended on the table for a while, everyone just eating quietly. Eventually Hermione got up to refill her drink from the fountain at the side of the hall. It was a beautiful creation - the punch cascaded down like a waterfall over an invisible structure. Flitwick had explained the charms behind it last lesson, but Harry couldn't even begin to remember any of them. The effect was amazing though.

As soon as Hermione was out of earshot, Seamus and Dean leaned in conspiratorially.

"Guess what," whispered Dean.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, wondering what prank they were up to now. Since the departure of the Weasley twins, Seamus and Dean had taken up the troublemaker mantle. After Voldemort had been defeated, the relief spreading through the Wizarding World had made them virtually unstoppable.

"What?" asked Ron, excitement seeping into his voice.

With the air of a magician unveiling his piece de resistance, Seamus said, "We're spiking the teacher's punch."

Harry stared at them. "You're what?" They'd done some crazy things, but _this_? It could get them in a lot more trouble than, say, "accidentally" letting all of the frogs from transfiguration class out into the corridors. "How?"

Dean looked at him like he was the nutter. "With alcohol, obviously."

"We've got it under the table," said Seamus proudly, "We put it there while everyone was crowding in. When people start dancing, we'll slip it into the punch bowl. They have a separate one for the teachers on their table."

Harry looked - it was true, there was indeed a large punch bowl at one end of the teachers' table. How fortunate. "You can't do this."

"Why not. Don't tell me you wouldn't enjoy seeing McGonagall drunk as the proverbial newt." Seamus and Dean grinned at each other and even Ron's eyes lit up.

"That's beside the point," argued Harry, fully aware that he was fighting a losing battle.

Neville was looking between the teachers table and them. "You'll never manage it," he said.

"Wanna bet?" The look of defiance on Seamus' face was definitely of Weasley origin.

"No," said Neville flatly. He'd already lost six Galleons over the frog incident.

Dean surveyed the rest of the table. "Harry?"

"You know what," he said, "I think I will. Because I don't think even you two can get past Dumbledore and Snape. I'll give you two Galleons if you spike the punch, five if no-one notices when they drink it."

"You're on," muttered Seamus excitedly, "We've got special tasteless rum from Fred and George - it's undetectable."

"Even to Snape?" Harry shot back.

The confidence in Seamus' voice stayed level as he repeated, "It's tasteless," but he didn't look quite so sure anymore.

From the other side of the table, Ginny hissed, "You'll never do it - that man would detect two drops of water in a glass of fire-whiskey. I'll bet you the same as Harry."

Dean's eyes practically glowed. "Looks like we're going to be raking it in tonight, Seamus. What about you, Ron?"

Ron waved his hands as if to ward them off with a firm, "No thank you. Not after last time. Anyway, Hermione would kill me."

"Why?" Hermione was back from the fountain, with a look of suspicion etched on her face. She looked from Seamus to Dean then back to Ron, who gulped audibly.

"No reason," he practically whispered.

Seamus chuckled loudly and said, "He's planning to steal Michael Corner from you."

Hermione flicked her eyes around the table, looking dubious. She was met with innocent looks. Finally, realising she wouldn't get anywhere near the truth, she sighed and sat down, saying, "He's more than welcome. Just don't bring him back to my rooms, honey."

Ginny snorted.

"Anywaaay," drawled Seamus, "how come Harry hasn't had to answer up to his singleness tonight?"

Harry looked at him sharply, vaguely aware that everyone else was doing the same. "Well, you know I was thinking about bringing Blaise," he said coldly, "but oh wait, he dumped me."

Seamus barely batted an eyelid. "So? You should have brought someone to rub in that bastard's face."

"Leave off," snapped Ginny. "Just because you and Dean are hideously happy together doesn't mean the rest of us need be."

"I'm just saying, a bit of arm-candy goes a long way towards getting an ex back." Harry would bet another five Galleons that, if asked then and there, Seamus could name five guys dressed up well enough that evening to earn the title 'arm-candy' without even looking round.

"What makes you think I want him back," asked Harry, morosely.

It wasn't just Seamus who rolled his eyes at that. Everyone round the table did too, as Ron said, "No offense, but we live in the same dorm as you. You've been moping the whole time. Not to mention the look on your face when you saw him with Terry Boot."

_Oh yeah, that'd probably do it_.

He couldn't think of a snappy comeback that would somehow distract the pitying expressions so didn't reply. Thankfully, he was saved by the arrival of the pudding menus. After choosing their desserts, the rest of the table set to discussing whether it would be actually physically possible for Crabbe or Goyle to dance without crushing someone. Harry let his eyes wander over the rest of the people in the hall, carefully avoiding looking at the one person he wanted to. On a table nearby some of the sixth years were busy describing a party that had been held by the Hufflepuffs after the last Quidditch match. A Slytherin Harry didn't recognise made a face as he explained how Snape rarely, if ever, allowed them to have a party in the dungeons. Further over, Harry could see Lavender Brown entwined around the arm of Anthony Goldstein, dressed in what looked like a pink, frilly wedding dress.

Draco Malfoy looked up then from somewhere behind one of Lavender's preposterously large sleeves and caught Harry's eye, grimacing as he flicked his eyes briefly at the dress before him. Harry was surprised to note that everyone else on Draco's table was paired up, meaning the Ice Prince had actually come alone to the ball. The boy looked, Harry had to admit, really rather fine. Harry had almost expected some incredibly expensive and flashy silver cloak, but he was dressed instead in just black, with only a slight silver trim at the edge of the cloak. It was all perfectly tailored, of course, the trousers and shirt hugging tightly to his lithe frame. It begged the question once more as to why he didn't have a date. Shrugging mentally, Harry looked back at his own table to see that both Neville and Ginny had left to fill up their drinks, leaving him in the company of Happy Couple #1 and Happy Couple #2.

_Perfect_.

He quickly turned his attentions to the staff table. Dumbledore appeared to be having a very intense debate with Professor Vector over something - they had abandoned their desserts and were quite clearly discussing an equation that had been drawn in mid-air with a wand. Harry scanned the other teachers, noting both Trelawney and Pomfrey's absences. His eyes locked with Snape's. The man was clearly already bored with the evening, being surrounded not only by Vector and Dumbledore as they continued their argument, but also, on the other side, by Flitwick and Sinistra, who, judging by the laughter and looks of recollection on their faces were reminiscing about the past. Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, taking in the two couples currently sharing each other's puddings beside him. Harry rolled his eyes back, used to these wordless communications with his Potions master.

Back when Ron and Hermione had first started going out, they used to whisper and smile at each other in classes when they thought teachers weren't watching. In the first Potions lesson, Snape had taken fifteen points off Gryffindor before they'd even begun brewing. It didn't stop them though, and in an effort to keep the peace, Harry caught Snape's eye when he looked up again and sighed dramatically, grimacing at the love-struck pair beside him. It was enough to make Snape stare, unaccustomed to students voluntarily drawing attention to themselves in his class, especially this particular one. For a moment, Harry thought he was going to put him in detention for even daring to look away from his cauldron. He'd certainly had detentions for a lot less than eye-contact before. But, whether it was post-war joy or the effects of the potions' fumes getting to him, Snape just smirked and gave the tiniest of nods, apparently content to let the points slide in order to watch Harry suffer.

Of course, Harry was less impressed with the situation after a couple of weeks of working with Ron's back. It would then have been easiest just to look indifferent and allow Snape to take points away again, but he actually enjoyed getting looks from Snape that would have been described as sympathetic had they come from anyone else. Somehow the two of them had stumbled into some sort of bizarre, silent truce, and it was nice to not be constantly arguing in lessons. Although it was certainly weird the first time he'd actually heard Snape speak civilly to him. He'd been halfway down the corridor when the man had called him back to the classroom. When he got there, Snape held out Harry's Potions textbook that he must have left on his desk.

"Thanks," he murmured, shoving the book into his bag. He was turning to go when he heard, "Good potion today, Potter." Snape looked as stunned as Harry felt hearing himself say those words, but he didn't add a snarky comment onto the end to cover up. Harry eventually recovered and grinned before leaving. The next lesson, after Harry had made his customary face at Ron and Hermione's continued obsession with each other, Snape had flicked his eyes at Harry's work then very subtly motioned towards the gnoggot Harry was dicing, and mouthed the word 'Finer'.

Harry pulled himself back to the present as his brain picked up on movement. Snape had reached into his robes and pulled out a small unlabelled bottle. Judging by the amber hue of the liquid inside, it was a bottle of fire-whiskey. Snape half-filled the glass in front of him and gave Harry a sardonic smirk as he raised his glass at him and then downed it in one.

Well, there was one teacher who would probably be unaffected by Seamus and Dean's prank. Harry began to wonder about whether he could still back out of the bet - with Snape laying into the liquor, his chances of losing increased tenfold.

* * *

_**AN:** hey guys. sorry i've been MIA for a while - i started university at the beginning of october, so life's been busy for a few months. for anyone who's also reading MTWBF, don't worry, i am continuing with it, i'm just a little stuck at the moment, inspiration-wise. _

_as for this fic, i have some more waiting to go out, but not enough for a chapter, yet. i haven't written anything in a bit, so i can't make any guarantees as to the speed of delivery for the rest of this, but with any luck it shouldn't be too long. i started this quite a while ago, and seeing as it will only be about 4 chapters long, i might actually finish it :D_

_hope you liked it so far!_


	2. Chapter 2

**--- Chapter Two ---**

Harry stared out across the sea of dancers, sipping absently from his goblet as he had been for the past hour and a half. He'd watched Seamus and Dean sidle up to the teachers' practically empty table and subtly tip in an entire bottle of Fred and George's special alcohol. That had been about forty five minutes ago, when most of the teachers were on the dance floor and, as of yet, none of them seemed to have noticed. Thinking about it, Harry wasn't entirely sure that he'd seen Dumbledore drink any punch from that point on but that could have been to do with the fact that he and Vector were still deep in discussion over something. Dumbledore had even Accio'd a book, presumably from the library, that they were currently flipping through. A few chairs along, Snape was now on his ninth glass of fire-whiskey if Harry had counted correctly, something he doubted his professor could do anymore. He seemed to be having trouble just staying on his chair.

As Harry watched Ginny dancing exuberantly with Zacharias Smith, he saw a patch of purple wending towards him out of the corner of his eye and prayed that Hannah Abbott was not going to ask him to dance. He'd already had offers from, it seemed, every girl in the room. It didn't matter how many times he said no or reminded them that actually he wasn't really into girls, they just kept coming. He was relieved to see the girl veer off towards Ernie Macmillan.

He didn't, however, notice Draco drop into the seat beside him.

"Hey there."

Harry jumped, spilling his drink over the floor.

"Wow, I didn't realise I was that special," said Draco with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Here, let me get you another." He had the goblet in his hand and had disappeared into the crowds before Harry could protest. By the time he reappeared, Harry had managed to turn down yet another girl's advances. Frankly he wasn't entirely sure that it hadn't been a third year. He shuddered at the thought and sank lower in his seat.

"Thanks," he said, taking the goblet with exaggerated care.

"My pleasure. I've come to rescue you, by the way; I see the girls have been attacking left, right and centre," Draco failed to keep the amusement from his voice.

Harry looked at him suspiciously. "Oh yeah? How long ago did you draw that conclusion?"

Flashing him a grin, the Slytherin said casually, "About an hour ago. I thought I'd let you suffer for a while to make my rescue more dashing."

"Cheers," muttered Harry.

"So," continued Draco, "why have you not graced the dance floor this evening? That Hufflepuff guy seemed pretty keen."

At this, Harry peered intently at the boy beside him. "Jeez, was there nothing more interesting for you to watch? Why weren't _you _dancing, rather than keeping tabs on me?"

"I'm not the one who needs to make an ex regret choosing someone else," said Draco simply.

Not for the first time, Harry cursed the Hogwarts grapevine, as he felt an unexpected twist of discomfort. 'Ex' took a fair amount of getting used to. Mentally ordering all of his finer arguments, Harry opened his mouth to refute the statement, but he didn't get any further than, "I don't need to make-" before Draco cut smoothly across him.

"I'm afraid you do. Either you get up and start dancing or stay here and be lonely and miserable for the rest of the evening. And trust me," he added, "that prick's not worth it."

Harry stared straight ahead and said sullenly, "Maybe he is."

"He's not." There was no doubt in Draco's voice. "He dumped you, Harry, and went off with Terry Boot. If it was me I'd have cursed him so hard he'd _still_ be in the Hospital Wing. I definitely wouldn't just sit here and gaze balefully at him when there are so many other people around."

Harry bristled, not liking this topic of conversation. "Well, I'm not you," he said harshly. "I want to sit here and mope away and I'm perfectly entitled to do so." He settled even lower into his chair and folded his arms as best as he could whilst clutching his punch.

Draco looked challengingly at him, then sighed dramatically and said, "Ah, such a waste."

They sat there in silence, listening to the low beat of the music. Somewhere in the distance Harry knew people were talking and dancing. Ginny and Colin Creevey, Seamus and Dean, Ron and Hermione... He could see them, but it was as though they were on the other side of a window and he was left here with just Draco and a few empty chairs.

"Why aren't _you_ out there dancing?" asked Harry a few moments later. "I presume you didn't get all dressed up just to lecture me."

He thought he saw something flicker in Draco's expression, as the boy's eyes turned to him, but then it was gone. The blond wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and purred, "Maybe I'm just waiting for the right person."

"Goyle not asked you yet, then?" asked Harry, fighting to keep a straight face.

Before him, the other boy just flashed his trademark smirk, "Ooh, tetchy. Shall I leave you to the merciless clutches of the remaining single students?" He grabbed his drink and stood, looking down tauntingly at Harry.

Slowly, the brunette took a sip of his drink and then looked up, surprised, "What, still here Draco? Waiting for me to call you back?"

There was a moment, when they both just looked at each other, waiting for one of them to break. Then Draco turned, but before he could take a step, Harry pulled him back down into his seat.

"Oh Harry," squealed Draco in an almost perfect imitation of Lavender Brown, "You do care!"

"Shut up," said Harry sharply, a smile crossing his lips, "I just took pity on you. I mean, where else are you going to go?" He waved his hand at the rest of the room. "Fancy braving the dancefloor?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Draco, fluttering his eyelashes. He set down his drink and grabbed Harry's hand.

"Not with me, you pillock," laughed the boy, whipping his hand back, "I meant with whichever lucky student you've set your sights on this evening. I know there's someone, or you wouldn't be sat here."

A half-smile formed on Draco's lips as he said casually, "Oh, they're too involved with someone else."

"Bad luck," muttered Harry. Then he reached under the table and pulled out another of Dean and Seamus' bottles. He added some to both their goblets, stashed the bottle under the cloth once more and raised his glass. "Well, here's to ...watching from afar and drowning our sorrows."

"Indeed," murmured Draco, draining his glass.

"Now," said Harry, "go find some other pretty girl to dance with. From what I've gathered, they all seem to be in short supply of partners."

He heard a low chuckle from the other boy before he added, "Apart from Ginny Weasley."

Harry looked over to see her now dancing with some Ravenclaw sixth year that he didn't know the name of. He smirked, saying, "I think she said she was after every guy she could lay her hands on."

He could have sworn Draco actually looked a little apprehensive at that prospect as he murmured, "Maybe I should stay here."

"No, go and dance. You can come back in ten minutes."

"What about you?" He turned to look at Draco who had quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I'm lonely and miserable, remember? Now shoo, you're ruining the effect."

Harry watched Draco as he held up his hands in defeat and left, carefully walking to the side furthest from Ginny. Maybe the boy was right, maybe he should dance. _But quite honestly_, he thought as he tipped some more alcohol into his drink, _staying here is so much easier_. Besides, he got to watch everyone else from the safety of his seat. He glanced over at Ron and Hermione and sniggered at the sight of Michael Corner hovering nearby. That boy should really give up. Luckily Ron hadn't noticed him yet. Harry was about to scan the room for Blaise again, when he saw Michael inch closer. _This should be interesting. _The boy went up to Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder. Harry could practically hear the polite, pitying voice Hermione used as she shook her head. Polite and pitying, however, were not words Harry would have used to describe the way Ron spoke to Michael, pulling Hermione away towards a different area of the dance floor. He'd get hell for that from his date.

Eventually, the current song ended and moments later Ginny dropped into the vacated chair beside him, looking flushed. "Phew, I'm knackered," she breathed, grabbing one of the many discarded drinks on the table, "I think I'll sit out for a bit."

Just then, however, Justin Finch-Fletchley turned up at their table and asked Ginny to dance. She winked at Harry, drained her glass and got to her feet. Harry watched her saunter off again and immediately be swallowed up by a crowd of boys. He wondered if he ought to warn Ron. Then he saw a glimpse of a pale cloak and settled back in for some Blaise-watching, his goblet of punch-flavoured rum in his hand.

* * *

It was about eleven o'clock when Dumbledore rose to his feet and asked the prefects to accompany the first to fifth years back to their dormitories. The headmaster appeared to be oblivious to the moans of the unlucky students, immersing himself once more in his conversation with the Arithmancy professor. To be fair, she was pretty insistent on being heard, and no sooner had he sat down again then Vector started pointing out some mistake on a large roll of parchment they were scribbling on. Harry had no idea when that had arrived. He also wasn't entirely sure exactly when Snape had been dragged out onto the dance floor, although considering the man's current level of inebriation, it may well have been voluntary. Frankly, Harry didn't much care; he was rather wrapped up in his daydreams. He settled back into his seat, thinking about the night's newest imagining, in which Blaise stumbles, spilling his drink on Harry's robes. Their eyes meet as he starts apologising and-

"Up! Now!" commanded an austere and familiar voice.

"Fuck off, Draco."

"Shan't," replied the voice with the maturity of a petulant toddler and suddenly Harry's vision was filled with silver.

"Piss off!" Harry said, barely looking at Draco as he pushed him out of his face. He vaguely registered the fact that there was no accompanying 'thump' of a body hitting the ground and reasoned that Malfoy was either still standing or had aimed himself towards a chair. Judging from the arm that laced around his shoulders the next moment, Harry had to go with the chair idea.

"It's time for you to dance. I've been out there far too long and now that the younger years have skedaddled there are less people around to watch you. What more could you need?"

Harry tried vainly to extricate himself from the other boy's grip as he said sharply, "For you to either shut up or shove off."

"Come on!" Draco seemed to be trying to haul him, one-armed, to his feet despite the awkward angle. Harry finally tore his eyes off the dance floor (well, one particular spot) and glared as hard as he could at the boy beside him. He got a smirk for his efforts.

"I'm not bloody dancing, Draco."

Harry was beginning to wonder how much punch Draco had had, as the boy asked cheerfully, "What'll it take, huh? What would get you to dance?"

"A knight in shiny fucking armour," said Harry, annoyed.

"Ta da! Your knight for a night." Draco stood up and flung his arms out to the side, looking rather pleased with himself.

"No," said Harry disinterestedly, as Draco reached down and tried to get him to stand once more. He was stronger than his thin frame suggested and damnably determined too. Harry found himself being pulled upright, furiously trying to shake off the hands that were wrapped around his wrists. "No, Draco, get off me." With a final flail of his trapped arms, he freed himself, only to have Draco whip round behind him and start propelling him forwards. No matter which way he turned, ducked or dodged, he was kept moving in a reasonably straight line and it wasn't long before he was trapped on the dance floor. He turned fully round, his arms crossed over his chest. "I _said _I'm not-"

"Yeah, yeah, not dancing," Draco cut across him, waving his hand, "You're going to look pretty silly out here then, aren't you?"

Harry made to step past the hideously smug boy in front of him but Draco sidestepped gracefully into his way. Harry stepped to the other side and Draco mirrored him.

"See, dancing's not so bad is it?" asked Draco innocently as Harry continued his break for freedom. When Harry dodged one way then stepped quickly in the opposite direction, Draco span elegantly before him, tapped one of the nearby students on the shoulder and said, "May I?" Without waiting for an answer, he swept his arm past the boy, still keeping his eyes on Harry, and pulled Ginny out of the crowd.

"Hey, what the-"

"Harry won't dance," said Draco to her, finally taking his eyes off Harry who looked suitably unimpressed with the entire situation and downright disgusted by the ease with which Draco had accomplished that last part.

"Ah, I see," she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking sternly up at him, "Well, I guess he won't mind me telling Mum that the gnome wasn't really the one that broke her favourite set of mugs, then?"

Harry recoiled as he remembered the look on Mrs Weasley's face as she had come in to the kitchen to find her best coffee cups lying in pieces on the floor. She looked ready to wallop them, when Ron held up the gnome they'd been playing catch with and blamed it on him. Harry wouldn't be surprised if that gnome was currently in China, judging by the strength with which Molly had flung it out of the window.

Fighting down a gulp he smiled and said, "You're not actually trying to_ blackmail_ me into dancing are you?" Then he saw the look on her face and the smile vanished as he added hastily, "Fine, fine, I'll dance, but only for ten minutes, ok?"

Ginny glared once more at him, then nodded and jumped straight back into the people surrounding them, being swooped upon instantly by three sixth year Hufflepuffs. Harry turned back to see Draco looking oh-so-pleased with himself and determined then and there to crush as many of his toes as possible. He had a sinking feeling that the other boy was nowhere near as drunk as he had seemed, and Harry resigned himself to major humiliation in the face of someone who could obviously actually dance.

"Good sir," said the blond, sweeping low in a bow and motioning with his hand, "the floor is yours."

"Trust me, I don't want it," muttered Harry under his breath. However, at the sight of Ginny peering over at him, he forced his feet to move in some awful bouncy motion.

"Aha," said Draco as he managed to make the very same motion look somehow effortlessly cool, "We'll make a decent dancer of you yet." He leaned in a little closer and stage-whispered, "You'll have Blaise falling at your feet in no time, just you see."

Harry scoffed, somewhere between trying not to trip himself up and just hoping that the ground would eat him whole. Then he saw a flash of cream coloured cloth out of the corner of his eye, and all thought of his feet was lost. Blaise had his back to him and was evidently dancing with Terry Boot. The latter looked rather like a confused and disorientated troll - his arms and legs were all moving independently of each other and he had a look of immense concentration on his face as he stumbled along to the music. Blaise on the other hand, from what Harry could see, was completely at ease. A little reserved, perhaps, but still eye-catching enough.

"Having fun, Harry?" asked Draco evilly after a few minutes. Harry missed the look of sadistic pleasure on Draco's face as the other boy watched him bop uncoordinatedly around; he was too busy looking at someone else. Draco sighed and continued to dance.

A couple of minutes later, he tried again. "Harry?" He may as well have been trying to engage a wall in conversation.

Annoyed, he said, more loudly this time, "Harry, look at me."

"Huh? What?" The boy before him wrenched his eyes away and turned to see what this new disturbance was about.

"I thought we were trying to make Blaise jealous."

"Uh huh," muttered Harry, flapping a hand at him and letting his eyes be drawn back over to his left.

At that point, Draco seriously considered just walking away. With another sigh at his own stupidity, as well as at Harry, he reached out a hand and gently pulled the black haired boy's face back to look at him. "We don't exactly look very convincing, do we?"

"What?"

"If you're going to make an effort to dance, _not_," he said quickly as Harry started to say something, "that you have a choice, then you may as well make it look good."

He waited for a response, but as the Gryffindor's eyes began to drift once more, he said, "Ok, here's the deal. Five minutes of pretending not to give a crap about Blaise. Five minutes of trying to make him jealous, and you get to sit undisturbed in a corner for the rest of the night looking morose. Deal?"

"Fine," said Harry moodily, looking as though he'd rather eat gravel, "I still don't see why you care if I dance or not."

Draco just smiled serenely back at him as he grabbed one of Harry's hands and spun him round. Harry saw swirling flashes of colour and light before stopping to face the blond once more. His subsequent glare earned him another 360 degree, high speed view of the room. He stumbled a little as he slowed, but it didn't faze the other boy, who simply grabbed his other hand and pulled him upright. Then they were off again, Harry being moved this way and that. After he'd tripped over his own feet a few times he decided on a plan of sorts.

Namely, getting Draco to let go of his hand.

He stepped in the wrong direction, pulling on his hand to throw the boy's balance. Then, without warning, he twisted under their interlinked hands, determined to break free. However, he hadn't reckoned on Draco's reactions. No sooner had he ducked under his arm than Draco countered the motion with a spin of his own so that they ended up facing each other once more. Only this time, he gripped Harry's hand more firmly and flashed him a challenging look. Suddenly dancing was beginning to seem an awful lot like duelling. Harry grinned and spun him in the opposite direction then pulled him close, hoping the sudden movement would affect the boy. It didn't, of course. In fact, all it did was allow Draco the opportunity to quickly switch the hand he was holding.

"Not bad, Potter," smirked Draco. He held eye contact for a second, maybe two, then stepped back and twisted once more. Turning slightly away from Harry, he snaked an arm behind his back and grabbed the hand he had just let go of. Before Harry knew what had happened, he had somehow been pulled under one of their interlocked limbs and around behind Draco to end up with the boy standing behind him, his arms still holding onto both of Harry's hands and wrapping around his chest. He whispered, "Ready?" swivelling Harry first one way then the other within their odd arm lock before letting go of one hand and spinning him right out into the dance floor like a ragdoll. Stumbling, Harry knocked into someone nearby only to be pulled back again before he could apologise. There was an unmistakeable gleam of triumph in Draco's eyes.

"Trying to break free?" he asked.

"No," muttered Harry, jerking his hand quickly at the same time.

"Good." Draco continued to dance, stepping forward and back and attempting not only to ignore Harry's failed attempts to reclaim his hand but also to get him to co-operate. Eventually, Harry managed to mirror the basic foot movement, even going so far as to stop pulling his hand towards him every few seconds. He looked up from his feet and caught Draco smiling at him. Sticking his tongue out at the boy he attempted to turn him once more, only to find himself engaged in some sort of arm wrestle. They kept moving their feet in the same back and forth motion, pushing against their joined hands, neither managing to get the other's arm high enough for a spin. Then, grabbing Harry's other hand once more, Draco turned on the spot forcing Harry to do the same the other way as their arms swung up and over them. Harry couldn't help it; he laughed. Keeping a tight hold of his Slytherin partner, he spun around and around, neither of them caring as the students near them moved back. It felt like they were small children on a roundabout, each keeping the other from falling to the ground as the surroundings became a blur. They stopped, the room still spinning and Draco let go, at which point Harry promptly fell onto the ground, still grinning.

Rather than get up, he just laughed at Draco who was trying to steady himself. "Need a hand?" he called from the floor, causing Draco to look over at him and snort. A shadow moved into his view from the left and Harry turned to see Snape stumbling back towards him. His dancing partner, Professor Sinistra, threw out an arm in vain as the inebriated man fell backwards over Harry's legs, sprawling across the floor in a mass of black robes. Draco turned his face to the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth as Severus looked dazedly around himself, seemingly confused by the sudden proximity of the floor to his person.

"What're you doing down here, Potter?" he asked, squinting over at Harry as the people around tried to contain their giggles.

Harry himself could scarcely get out, "Y-you fell over me, sir," before he dissolved into laughter.

"Ah, that makes sh-sense," muttered Snape, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet by Sinistra and one of his Slytherins. "Have fun on the floor," he called back as he waltzed awkwardly away with the Astronomy Professor. Harry couldn't answer; he could barely breathe. As Draco leaned over and helped him up, the other students turned away again, with one exception. However, Harry was too busy laughing and, apparently, tangoing to notice that Blaise was still watching them with an odd expression on his face.

* * *

_**AN:** hey, hope you're enjoying this so far. _

_once again (as always) i have not given up on More Than We Bargained For. with any luck, i'll be able to get back to it over the holidays. only a few more days left of term :D_


	3. Chapter 3

**--- Chapter Three ---**

One Severus Snape, feared Potions Master of Hogwarts and all round snarky bastard was currently slumped unconscious in a corner. Had he been awake and sober, he would probably have been interested to note that his godson was still dancing with Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived. However, in his current state, using an equally comatose Hagrid as a sleeping post, it's doubtful he noticed. That's not to say that no one else had - a certain handsome, pale-robed student certainly had eyes for nothing and no-one else.

As for Harry, he didn't seem to have realised that his agreed five minutes had been and gone, along with another fifteen. In fact he hadn't even noticed that Ginny had finally left the dance floor on the arm of Theodore Nott, or that Seamus and Dean had topped up the teacher's punch bowl with another bottle of rum and a smattering of punch. That's not to say he was being unobservant though. He'd noticed a fair few things: the exact shade of Draco's eyes, for one. The feel of the other boy's hand on his as he flung him around the dance floor. He'd even managed to pay attention long enough to notice when the music had changed to a much slower, softer song about six seconds ago.

Harry moved a little closer. Keeping Harry's hand gripped firmly in his, Draco shifted his other hand to the boy's waist, as Harry reached for Draco's shoulder. They stood there, moving from side to side for a while, maintaining a gap between them. Then Harry stepped forward, sliding his hand a little lower as he did so and resting his head on Draco's shoulder. He felt the Slytherin's breath hitch in his throat and the grip on his hand tightened. Instantly, Harry drew back, looking up at the face before him. There was an odd expression on it, the silver eyes staring straight at him, then Draco suddenly whispered, "I'm sorry," and backed away. Harry's hands dropped to his sides as he watched the boy turn slowly and walk out of the doors.

For a moment, all he could do was stare as the surrounding people swallowed the boy up. What had just happened? It had all been going so well and now Harry was standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. Lowering his eyes, he slowly wormed his way through the dancing couples and headed towards his table, still casting the occasional glance at the doors. He paced for a moment, about to sit down, then suddenly made up his mind and left. If he hurried, maybe he could catch up with Draco and find out what was wrong.

He paused in the entrance hall, unsure of where to go. He figured the dungeons would make the most sense, and turned off down one of the long corridors. Along the way he passed several students, mostly couples hiding in the shadows. There were less and less the further he got from the hall. As he rounded the next corner, he saw Ginny up ahead, her bright green dress standing out even in the dimly lit hall. She was pressed up against the wall by a taller guy, who Harry couldn't quite make out from here. Not wanting to intrude, Harry edged back and was about to leave when he heard a firm 'No' from Ginny.

Turning back towards her, Harry watched as she pushed the older boy away, his face lit up momentarily in the torchlight. As he stared, Theodore Nott moved closer again, pushing one of Ginny's arms back against the wall.

"No," she said again, hitting him soundly round the head with her free arm. Harry didn't need any more encouragement. He raced down the corridor, trying to free his wand at the same time.

The youngest Weasley broke free of Nott's grip as he turned to look at Harry who moments later barged into him, knocking him aside.

"Ginny, are you alright?" he asked hurriedly, checking her face for any signs of bruises, fearing the worst. Behind him, Nott lurched to his feet.

"I'm fine," Ginny muttered, her face red. She glanced over his shoulder and Harry turned to see the Slytherin making his way as fast as he could away from them. He started to go after him, but Ginny grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him back.

"Don't," she said, a tremor in her voice, "It doesn't matter."

"He was trying to force you, Ginny," seethed Harry. "I'm going to wring his bloody neck!" He tried to leave, but Ginny still had him by his shirt.

"That's very sweet, Harry, but completely unnecessary. Look, I'm fine." She turned her face towards him and held up her hands and arms, twisting them to show she was unharmed. "He was just trying his luck on. I'll teach him not to mess with girls next time I face him in a match." The words were said with feeling, but Harry noticed her hands were shaking. He glowered, still wanting to beat the other boy to a pulp.

The redhead looked at him then slowly released her grip on his clothing. When he didn't immediately run away, she ran a hand through her hair, and smoothed down her dress, checking to see she still had everything with her. Harry waited, fighting down his anger and letting her take her time to control herself. When she looked up again, she looked a little less shaky.

"Come on, let's get back," she said.

Harry stopped her, looking into her face carefully. "Are you sure you want to go back, Ginny? You could go back to the dorm - I'll get Hermione if you want someone to take you."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I'm _fine. _Nothing actually happened did it?"

"Nothing happened? He-"

Ginny waved her hand in frustration. "Oh do shut up Harry. I want to go back, ok? I'm not about to let him ruin my evening."

"But what if he comes up to you again?" Harry asked, still worried. Ginny was like a sister to him.

"I doubt he's going to after he saw the look on your face. Besides, I don't plan on dancing any more. It was a waste of time." Harry waited for her to elaborate. She rolled her eyes and said, "There was only one guy I want to dance with and he's not going to ask again. So I'm just going to go back to the table and talk to whoever's there. Alright?" She didn't wait for an answer as she grabbed his arm and slung it round her shoulder, setting off down the corridor. "I swear sometimes you're as bad as Ron. Now, tell me what's going on with Draco."

Harry blinked at the abrupt change of conversation. "What do you mean?"

"You and Draco. Dancing. All over each other."

"We weren't ...it wasn't like that." Ginny smirked as he floundered. "He was trying to help make Blaise jealous." The redhead snorted.

"What?" asked Harry, annoyed.

"You really believe that?" she asked, looking at him in an incredulous manner.

Harry didn't see what she was getting at. "Why shouldn't I?" he asked defensively.

She shook her head sadly as they walked into the entrance hall, but didn't elaborate.

"What?" He gave her arm a little push, but this only served to amuse her further.

She stopped and turned around. "It's obvious," Ginny said, in her best professor's voice. "He likes you. A lot."

"He what?" The older Gryffindor's mouth hung open at the end of that sentence.

"Likes you. L-I-K-E-S."

"That's ridiculous." Harry shook his head and walked past her.

"Whatever you want to believe."

They bumped into Neville as the entered the Great Hall. "Hey, have you seen Ron? Hermione was looking for him, but we couldn't find you two either."

"Nope, haven't seen him. Harry?" Ginny looked at Harry to see that he was suddenly standing with his fists clenched, glaring at someone behind Neville. His line of sight lead her eyes straight over to Theodore Nott who was standing near their vacated table.

"Leave it," she murmured. Neville looked oddly at them.

"What is it?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head, saying, "It's nothing." She gripped Harry's arm firmly, keeping him from leaving.

"Harry?" Neville looked at him worriedly as the boy continued to glare at the Slytherin.

"I can't believe he came back here," muttered Harry angrily.

Neville followed his gaze. "Who, Nott? Why?"

"That bastard tried to force himself on Ginny," Harry said, taking a step towards him. The girl on his arm held him back, as Neville stared at her.

"It's not that big a deal," she insisted. "Just leave him be, Harry. Wait, Neville, where are you going?" Neville had turned abruptly on his heel and left them, striding straight towards Nott who was looking the other way. Ginny followed pulling Harry along. As they neared the table, Nott turned to see Neville fuming at him. In a swift motion, the shorter boy drew his arm back and punched the other straight on the nose. Nott stumbled backwards as Neville advanced again. The next punch landed on his cheekbone, causing him to knock over the table and sprawl across the floor.

"Don't you ever touch her again," said Neville coldly.

"Detention, Mr Longbottom," came the commanding voice of Professor Sinistra as she stepped forward out of the people around them.

Ginny, who until then had just been staring at the scene, suddenly walked over to stand next to Neville. "It wasn't his fault Professor. Nott tried to corner me down in the dungeons. He was simply teaching him that when a girl says no, she means it." As she said this Seamus and Dean appeared, and began to surreptitiously pick up the bottles of rum that had been uncovered by the table tipping over.

Sinistra looked at her sharply. She scoured her face before looking back at the boys, taking in the new pair that had arrived. Her face twisted slightly as she said, "Very well. Ten points from Gryffindor for brawling. You two," she said, motioning towards Seamus and Dean, "will bring those bottles and help me escort Mr Nott to the infirmary where Madam Pomfrey will keep him until his head of house is available to discipline him. Perhaps we ought to take Mr Longbottom too." Sinistra looked at the hand Neville was currently cradling. "Then," she added, "I will find some suitable punishment for the two of you for sneaking alcohol into the ball."

Seamus and Dean sighed, muttering as they helped Theodore to his feet. They traipsed out after Sinistra, their tails between their legs. Neville looked at Ginny. "I'll be back," he murmured then followed the others.

"Well," said Harry as he helped Ginny right the table, "who'd have thought Neville had it in him?"

"I know," she said slowly, still looking towards the doors. Harry started grabbed the surrounding chairs, putting them back into place. Moments later Hermione appeared in front of him.

"Have you seen Ron?" she asked tersely. Harry shook his head causing her to huff. "He walked off half an hour ago and I haven't seen him since. If you do see him, tell him I'm looking for him and that he'd better have a bloody good excuse." As she moved off, Michael Corner stepped in front of her. She shook her head angrily and continued into the crowd, the younger boy trailing after her.

Something clicked in Harry's mind and he remembered where he'd been going before he found Ginny.

"Oh shit," he said, slumping into a chair.

"Huh?" murmured Ginny, looking over at him.

"I meant to go find Draco," he said slowly.

"So go find him. Where'd he go anyway?" Ginny looked around, expecting to see him somewhere in the hall.

"That's the thing," said Harry dully, picking at the tablecloth, "I don't know. I don't even know if I should go get him."

"What happened?" she asked. He told her, about dancing, and about Draco practically running away. "I just don't get why he left."

Ginny tapped her fingers on the table. "Hmm," she murmured, thinking. "Maybe he didn't want to get too close."

"Too close?" asked Harry looking up, "He was the one that wanted to dance."

"I know," she said in a placating manner, "but from the sounds of it, you were just two friends dancing. Then the slow song came on and maybe he thought he was pushing it too far. If he likes you, which he almost certainly does, he probably didn't want to slow dance with you when he knew you didn't like him back. It'd be like trying to delude himself."

All Harry could do was stare at her. "How the hell do you know all that?"

Now it was Ginny's turn to look miserably at the table. "I turned down the guy I wanted to dance with earlier, because I thought he just asked as a friend."

"Oh." Harry tried to come up with something better to add, but couldn't.

"I don't know now. But I guess he probably won't ask me again." She sighed, then slapped on a fake-looking smile, and said with mock cheerfulness, "I guess that means no more dancing though, which is just as well. My feet are killing me."

Harry didn't answer. The smile dropped off Ginny's face and they both just sat there, staring out at the remaining people. Up at the staff table, most of the teachers seemed to be pretty drunk, judging by the amount of giggling and swaying going on. Harry watched as Dumbledore got quickly to his feet, followed by Vector. From what he could make out, it sounded like the headmaster said something along the lines of 'To the library!'. Both he and Vector set off with a determined look that often adorned Hermione's face.

"Hi," came a voice to Harry's right. He looked over to see Neville had arrived back at the table. He was about to reply, when he noticed that Neville wasn't looking at him.

Ginny got quickly to her feet. "How's your hand?" she asked, looking it over.

"It's fine. Sorry, I lost my temper a bit," muttered Neville embarrassedly.

"He deserved it," smiled Ginny.

They looked at each other for a bit, before Neville awkwardly shuffled his feet and said slowly, "I don't suppose you'd like to dance would you?"

Harry grimaced, remembering that Ginny wasn't going to dance anymore. He was therefore surprised to hear her say, "I'd love to." He looked up to see the pair of them smiling at each other. Well, there was a turn up for the books. As Neville walked off, Ginny turned slightly to grin at Harry. He gave her a thumbs up and watched as she practically skipped onto the dance floor.

That made up his mind. He was off to find Draco. He got up and squared his shoulders, determined to find him this time. Before he could reach the doors though, Blaise stepped in front of him.

"Harry?"

He felt his breath hitch very slightly as recognition kicked in. "Blaise! Uh, hi," he breathed.

"Hey there," purred the Slytherin silkily, taking a step closer. Even as he did this, Harry's gaze wandered back towards the door. Blaise moved closer again, closing the gap between them. "Can we talk?"

"Hmm?" he looked back at Blaise. The Slytherin motioned to the entrance hall and followed Harry out and over to a wall at the side.

"Well?" asked Harry.

Blaise smiled, leaning over him a little. "I wanted to say, I was stupid. I should have brought you here, not Terry."

"You probably shouldn't have dumped me for him then," said Harry.

The older boy's smile faltered for a moment, then he leaned in closer and said softly, "I know. Look, let's just put the last couple of weeks behind us, alright?"

Harry stared. "Put them behind us?" he asked, a cold edge to his voice. "Is that your version of an apology?"

Blaise backed up a little. "Harry, I-"

"When exactly did you figure this out? When you saw me dancing with somebody else?" Harry straightened, looking Blaise straight in the eyes.

"Can I help it if I got jealous?" he murmured, slinking closer once more.

"I think I want more than just jealousy," said Harry slowly.

"I can give you more than that, Harry," he said, with a seductive wink.

As he put his hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry lost it. "No," he said hotly, pushing the offending arm away, "I'm not your plaything, Blaise. You can't just throw me away and then have me back because you got jealous. I want someone who actually gives a crap about me, who's there when I need them, not just when they're feeling horny." He didn't care that people were looking. "I want..." he faltered. "I want someone who's going to pick me up when I'm down, and make me dance even if I don't want to, just to get me to smile."

"You want to dance?" asked Blaise confusedly.

Harry wasn't really listening. "No, I-"

"What?" asked Blaise after a moment.

"I... Uh..." His eyes darted over Blaise's shoulder once more, not really seeing the boy in front of him.

"Harry?" asked the Slytherin impatiently, forcing himself back into his line of sight.

"Yeah?" muttered the boy distractedly, "I just..."

Blaise waited for the end of the sentence. When it didn't come he let out an exasperated sigh, "You know what, forget it." With that he stormed back into the hall. Harry couldn't bring himself to care. All the days of pining over Blaise, and suddenly it had all gone. His brain had finally picked up on all of the points his friends had made about Blaise being a bastard, it seemed.

He looked around quickly. He didn't know where Draco would be, but if he was in the dungeons, Harry didn't have a hope of finding him. Figuring that he might as well look outside, even if just to clear his head he made for the main entrance. He walked quickly through a maze of bushes and trees, dimly lit by little hovering lights. Soon he'd left the secluded benches with whispering couples behind, and plunged into the dark grounds. It was much colder out here and he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. Suddenly, Harry tripped over a rock on the ground. As he picked himself back up, a memory hit him from about a month ago. He'd been out here in the grounds with Draco on the way back from an afternoon of Quidditch practice:

_"Are you kidding me?" asked Harry, with a grin. "You were nowhere near catching that last snitch."_

_"I was barely an inch behind you."_

_"It's still eleven-nine, Draco."_

_"But I-" the blonde haired boy broke off and stopped, looking up at the sky. "Is it raining?"_

_Harry slowed to a halt and held his hand out. "Hmm, feels like it. Come on, let's get back."_

_They'd barely taken two more steps before the rain started properly. "Damn it," said Harry as he threw his hands up over his head and broke into a jog. They were still a long way from the castle. He glanced back over his shoulder to see that the Slytherin had stopped and was casting a spell at something in his hand. _

_"Draco, move it!" he called, torn between running away and going back. The other boy barely looked up. Harry growled and sprinted back to him. _

_"What are you doing?" he asked, trying to pull the boy along. Draco shook him off. "We're going to get soaked, Dray."_

_"I've almost got it," he said. Harry was just about to leave, when the hair in Draco's hand turned into an umbrella._

_"What th-?" asked the Gryffindor._

_"Told you," said Draco smugly. "Come on, get under." _

_"It's tiny!" Harry looked at the thing. It was barely more than three foot in diameter._

_"Well, we'll just have to stick close together won't we?" The blonde haired boy moved over, levitating the umbrella above them. As they moved off, it followed above with no discernable control on Draco's part._

_"How does it do that?" asked Harry, squinting up at the small structure. _

_"Do what?"_

_"Follow us?" muttered Harry, motioning upwards._

_"It's a simple hovering spell, just changed so that the umbrella is set to keep above us." Draco shrugged. _

_Harry racked his brain, thinking through his the charms he knew. "Both of us?" he asked. "I thought that spell only worked to keep to one of us? Otherwise what would happen if we moved apart?"_

_Draco didn't look up as he said quietly. "I don't know."_

_"You must know," said Harry more firmly, "you made it do it. You must have set it above one of us."_

_Draco just shrugged again. _

_"Well, why don't we find out?" said Harry mischievously. He stepped a little aside. _

_"No," said Draco quickly. He moved over to be next to Harry again._

_"Why not?" asked the dark haired boy with a grin. _

_"Well for all you know, it might just break in half if we split," muttered Draco angrily. "Can't we just get back to the castle?" He tried to pull Harry along with him, but the other boy wasn't about to give up without a fight._

_"No," he said, pulling back his arm, "I want to know. Are you trying to hide some part of this spell from me?" He peered at Draco, smiling as the other boy dropped his gaze. _

_"No, I-"_

_"Then you won't mind if I just..." Harry trailed off, taking a large step backwards. Draco followed him almost instantaneously. Harry took another step back, watching as Draco shadowed him. He flashed him a smile then ran. _

_"Harry!" called Draco, as he chased him, barely a foot behind. Harry dodged and weaved, trying to throw the other boy off, but it was no use. Malfoy was far too experienced in chasing him during Quidditch matches. All of a sudden, he heard a thump, and turned back to see Draco on the ground a fair way behind him, having fallen over a stone. He looked up at Harry, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead. _

_"Happy now?" he muttered._

_Harry stared up at the umbrella that was still floating above him, then looked back over to Draco. They held the gaze for a few moments, before Harry smirked and said, "Regular Prince Charming, aren't you?" He laughed at the look on the other boy's face, then quickly ran, as Draco lunged at him. By the time they made it into the entrance hall, out of breath and grinning like maniacs, Harry had completely forgotten about the umbrella, and never noticed Draco vanish it. _

Harry blinked, remembering the moment after Draco had fallen over. At the time, he'd thought nothing of it, but now... He was cut off from further musings as he spotted a figure in front of him. They were only half lit by the moon and Harry's heart sped up a little. Maybe looking outside hadn't been such a bad idea.

He picked up his pace, striding over to the person. As he neared them though, he could quite clearly make out who it was.

"Ron, what are you doing out here?" He called, walking closer. Ron didn't answer, didn't even give any sign that he heard Harry. The light of the moon was dancing on the lake's surface, and Ron appeared to be standing with his feet in the water.

"Ron!" yelled Harry again, running over to his friend. He grabbed his shoulders. "Ron, what the hell are yo-" Harry stopped. The boy wasn't even looking at him. He seemed to be staring into the middle distance. Harry tried shaking his shoulders, but it did nothing. There was no doubt he'd been hexed, probably a confundus charm. Harry whipped out his wand and cast a _finite incantatum_ at him. It worked instantly.

"Harry?" asked Ron, snapping his gaze onto his friend's face. "Where are we?" He looked down. "Why are my feet wet?"

Harry helped him back to the castle, trying to work out what had happened. Apparently, Ron couldn't remember anything past leaving Hermione to get some more punch. He'd clearly been outside for quite a time, as he was shivering violently from the cold. Harry steered him towards the hall, looking out for Hermione. He found her sooner than he'd expected, exiting the hall with Michael Corner on her heels.

"For the love of Merlin, Michael, no. I've told you already, I'm not interested. Please ju- Ron!" She hurried over. "Where the hell have you been?" she asked, but her annoyance drained as she noticed the state he was in. "What happened to you?"

As Ron explained as much as he knew, Harry looked over to see Michael slowly backing away. He looked back at Ron, then at Hermione, then it clicked.

"Stop right there, Corner," he said loudly, startling the two people near him. He strode quickly over to the boy before he could escape. "You did this, didn't you?"

Michael just looked helplessly up at him, then over towards Hermione.

"I just wanted to dance. I thought... if he wasn't there, maybe..." He trailed off.

Hermione's confused look turned to one of outrage. "So you hexed him and left him outside?"

"I'm sorry, I just..." Michael looked away.

Harry ran his fingers frustratedly though his hair. All he wanted to do was find Draco.

"Right," he said suddenly, "here's what you're going to do. You're going to help Ron back to his rooms without a word, and then you will go to your own dorm, understood. I leave it up to Hermione as to whether she wants to report you to a teacher or not. Ok?"

Michael nodded sullenly, and walked over to help Ron. Hermione followed them, with a quick thanks in Harry's direction. He just nodded, trying to work out where to go next. There were too many places where Draco could be. He'd look in the hall first, see if he'd come back. Then perhaps the astronomy tower, or chance another look in the dungeons.

Harry wandered back in, passing a table that was surrounded by quite a few sixth years.

"Come on," said a Slytherin amongst them, "How often do we get this chance?" Harry slowed, listening. This sounded like trouble.

"Are you sure Snape won't notice?" asked a girl in a pale yellow dress.

"Have you seen him? He won't wake up until tomorrow afternoon by the looks of him. Tell the rest of the sixth years to bring butterbeer or anything they have down to the dungeons. We'll have a party in the Slytherin common room for once."

"Alright!" crowed another of the Slytherins, and they dispersed. Harry smiled in spite of himself, watching as Gryffindors mingled with Slytherins and Hufflepuffs with Ravenclaws, spreading out through the crowd. Within minutes, all of the sixth years had left, most heading towards the dungeons. The room was a lot emptier now, but there was still no sign of Draco. He wandered over to the punch, grabbing himself another cup and leaned heavily against the table. Perhaps he should just leave Draco to his own devices. It wasn't likely that he was going to find him now anyway. He watched as Ginny and Neville left the dance floor, strolling outside arm in arm. There were only a few people left now. Seventh years and the teachers. Harry saw McGonagall and Madam Hooch a little way to his left at the staff table. They were heatedly discussing Quidditch in slightly slurred voices.

"You think you'd make a good chaser, Minerva?" asked the coach.

"I used to play for Gryffindor." The teachers around them turned around, clearly interested.

"But that was fifty years ago. You'd never get on a broom now." Even Harry could hear the challenge in the woman's voice.

"I suppose you think you'd do any better?" McGonagall huffed.

"You forget I still teach flying. I could take you on any day."

"Oh really?" Harry's professor set her goblet down with a clang.

Madam Hooch grinned with the ferocity of a tiger. "You care to try it? I bet you couldn't get one goal against me"

"You're on!" said McGonagall loudly. "Ten galleons I can still score, Rolanda."

"Anyone else?" called Hooch, looking up and down the staff table. There was a drunken chorus, to which she responded, "Alright, a match it is. Let's take this to the pitch." She strode out, weaving slightly, followed by the rest of the conscious staff members. The remaining students all looked around in confusion, before taking off after the teachers, for what promised to be an interesting spectacle. Harry would have followed had he not spotted something by the doors. Someone to be more precise. Someone dressed in black with a shock of blonde hair, looking into the hall amidst a crowd of people surging out. Their eyes met, and Harry heard the blood pumping in his ears.

The hall was empty now, save for Snape and Hagrid in the corner. Harry set down his punch cup and walked across, Draco stepping forward at the same time.

"You came back?" asked Harry, as they met in the middle of the room.

Draco didn't take his eyes off him as he murmured, "I'm sorry I left, it's just that I..."

"I understand."

"You do?" asked Draco slowly.

"I hope so," breathed Harry. There was a beat of silence as Draco just made an 'o' with his mouth. Then Harry took a breath and said, "Do you remember that day when we were coming back from Quidditch practice and it started raining?"

"...Yeah," Draco replied.

"You made that umbrella hover above me, didn't you?"

The other boy nodded.

"How did you make the umbrella?" Harry watched as Draco's brow creased a little, then he plucked a hair from his head.

"Like this." With a flick of his wand, the hair transformed into an identical umbrella. Harry took it, and looked at it for a moment. Then he sent it up into the air, so it hovered above the two of them.

"What was it Hermione said? Ah yes. _Aqua Orbis_," he muttered, and the falling hearts turned to rain.

The music was still playing slowly in the background as Draco looked at Harry. He gave a small smile, and said, "It's tiny."

Harry laughed softly. "Well, we'll just have to stick close together, won't we?"

He stepped closer, taking Draco's hand. As they started slow dancing, Draco said quietly, "What would happen if we moved apart? Who would it follow?"

"Do you want to find out?" asked Harry, moving back a little so he could look at the other boy's face.

"No," said Draco with a grin as he leaned forward to capture Harry's lips with a kiss.

* * *

_**AN: **alright! i finally finished a fic with more than one chapter. cheesy i know. let me know what you think :)_

_and as ever, blah blah blah writer's block blah blah blah MTWBF.... i will upload a new chapter one day!_

_thanks for reading_


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